Fagin never did anything without reason, and never anything without getting something in return. And yet, try as she might, Nancy couldn't figure out exactly what it was he had to gain in sending her off with an acquaintance (at best). There was something at play, and, she realized later, not something she wanted to dwell on. The other shoe would drop. It always did.

For now, though, she was left with this man known as Eames. He was handsome, sure, but just nearly everything he wore was terrible. Even Bill had a better fashion sense, and he was just a jeans and t-shirt sort of bloke.

"So I understand this whole thing is sleeping- but I'm going to make this clear to you, Mr. Eames: If you expect me to fuck you, you can get rid of the idea right now." She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other as she watched him work, going about getting set up for Intro To Dreaming or whatever. "'cause I ain't interested."